


I knew you loved me then

by random_firework



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Dean, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Season/Series 01, Smut, Spit As Lube, Top John, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_firework/pseuds/random_firework
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is missing and Dean tries desperately to forget what happened the night before he left. He fails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I knew you loved me then

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the SPN Rare Ship Creations Challenge of August. My prompt was the song Taking Over Me by Evanescence. The title comes from the lyrics of this song.
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s just another quiet night. The pale glow of the moon lightens the motel room in a soft way. On the twin beds, two brothers are lying down with their eyes closed. Everything seems calm; but things aren’t always what they seem. 

Inside the older one’s head, a raging storm is taking over. His eyes shoot open and a shaky breath exits his mouth as he wakes up, feverish. He feels his stomach twist relentlessly and runs to the bathroom. His vision is fuzzy and it’s blindly that he grips the edge of the sink with trembling fingers. All he can hear is his heart beating, thumping, overwhelming all of his senses. He forces himself to breathe deeply and tries to ignore his retching. When he feels good enough, he tentatively opens his eyes. His heartbeat has steadied itself but his hands are still shaking when he opens the faucet to freshen up.

It’s not the first time that Dean dreams about his Dad since he went missing, but this dream was…different, more like a memory he wants to bury in himself and never dig up. The memory of the last time he saw his Dad. Their first time together.

Dean tries to keep the thoughts out of his mind, but he can’t ignore the warmth at the bottom of his belly that has been there since he has woken up. He dares a glance at his boxers, where a damp spot is already clearly visible. He hasn’t touch himself in weeks, since that night, because he knows what he’ll think about when he comes: not the last girl he hooked up with, or Rhonda Hurley, no – his father’s hands on his hips, grounding him, using him. He knows he shouldn’t but he’s so hard, he needs it so bad…His hips buck inadvertently in arousal, making his crotch rub against the sink and it’s so fucking good he cannot not do it again. And again; and again. Then that’s it, he’s losing control of himself, lets all the memories flood his mind for a few blissful minutes. 

 

It began in a motel room – of course, where else could it have possibly happened? Dean bending over the sink, still shaken up by the hunt that had almost gone wrong earlier that day and the fight that had followed between his father and him. John behind him, back from the bar. Soon closer, then too close. The smell of alcohol filled up Dean’s space as his father trailed his fingers on his arms. John didn’t say anything, but his breath against Dean’s neck was enough to make him shudder.

“Dad?” 

“Dean, I…I…”

Dean could have said no, walk away. He should have. He had never been fucked before, he didn’t even like guys, and besides, this was his _father_. But his dad needed something, so he was going to give it to him. Wholeheartedly. 

“It’s okay, Dad.” And truth was, he wanted it too. “Please, sir,” he added, sticking out his butt.

“Good boy,” John slurred, reaching for Dean’s belt buckle. 

It was a quick after that; no foreplay, no kisses – who needs kisses, anyway, certainly not Dean, right? – just three fingers of prep and spit as lube, but it didn’t matter to Dean. It burned when John pushed in him slowly, but the satisfied grunt he made was enough for Dean to get off too. His father, who was holding back to give him time to adjust, was filling him up like he never knew he could be. 

“F-fuck me, Dad,” he whimpered. “Please, just…do it.”

John withdrew and slammed back, setting a quick rhythm that overwhelmed Dean. His mind shut down, leaving him driven by this sexual, primal instinct of being satisfied. He braced himself against the sink with one arm to stroke his dick with his other hand. For a short moment, all that could be heard in the room was the slap of skin on skin and the increasing groans of the two men.

They didn’t last long. Dean shot his load on the tiling when he felt John spill his cum inside of him, clutching his hips so hard that the bruises would still be there a couple of weeks later. As John pulled out and slapped his ass slightly, Dean knew that he had done something right, at last. And he knew, then, that he was loved.

 

This time, Dean’s cum coats the washstand. When he comes down from his orgasm – so hard he had to nip his lips – tears of guilt and shame prickle his eyes. He conscientiously washes his spill away then tucks himself back in his boxers. His hands are shaking again.

“Dean?”

Startled, Dean jerks and looks at the mirror, meeting his brother’s eyes. He is afraid for a moment that he wasn’t quiet enough and that Sam heard him but the latter is squinting and yawning, still full of sleep. 

“Go back to bed, Sammy,” he sighs. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

Dean looks back at Sam in the mirror. He can’t tell him. Sam is still grieving Jessica and it’s the first night that he sleeps more than two hours in a row. He can’t put that on his shoulders, on top of everything else. He wouldn’t understand, anyway. 

“That burrito wasn’t really fresh,” he explains, rather convincingly.

But Sam frowns. “Man, your lip is bleeding.”

“It’s nothing. Go back to bed.”

Sam stares at him a couple of seconds more then shakes his head and disappears from the reflection. No, Sam would never understand how much he needs his Dad. He would never understand that he needs to be with him to live, to breathe. That if they don’t find him, he will lose the tiny part of him that’s still sane. 

A drop of blood falls in the sink. Dean tries his best to ignore the tears that follow.

**Author's Note:**

> Why didn't anyone tell me how angsty this pairing was?  
> Anyway, thank you for reading this work and I hope you liked it! If you did, comments and kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
